A private conversation with John Pawson

Deyan Sudjic [writer, founder of Blueprint magazine and Director Emeritus of the Design Museum, Ed.], came up with the idea for a biography, which surprised me because I don’t think I’ve finished what I’m doing yet. But it’s good to stop for a moment, and take the time to reflect on what has been achieved up to now. Like a discipline, a way of exploring where this work comes from. Although it’s no mystery to me because I see Yorkshire, my parents, Japan and other influences in it.

It’s certainly better to do it before the end comes, and my memory is still at least 90% accurate.

Apart from my parents and my life partners, obviously, the most significant and formative ones include the Japanese designer Shiro Kuramata and Claudio Silvestrin, who I met over 35 years ago. My meeting with him was fortuitous, brief and fundamental. It was a surprise to come across someone who so fully shared my vision in a remote corner of England.

A while ago, I was working on a project with Kanye West, who was staying in my house in the country. He thought I should do it with Claudio Silvestrin, but I replied that we hadn’t spoken to each other for over 30 years. So Kanye made a video call to Claudio, they chatted for a while and then they brought me in. It was quite a surprise.

When I was younger I was in a position to invest in contemporary art, but didn’t regard myself as a collector. I also had some of Andy Warhol’s Maos, but in the end I didn’t feel comfortable owning those particular works and I sold them on.

I went back there with Calvin Klein, while I was working for him, after a very long time, despite the fact that my then-partner Hester [van Royen, Ed.] was the European representative for Judd. Calvin had had enough after just two hours, asked for some books and left. I’ve got a photo of him leaving with 20 or so volumes. I stayed on for a few days, for me it was the most important place in the world to visit.  It was like achieving a goal, like finally getting to the Pyramids.  

In our house my room was just at the top of the stairs. When my mother was cooking, the smell of food wafted all the way up. I had four sisters, I remember that as each of them left home, my father would knock down a wall and my room got bigger and bigger. My mother was an unassuming woman, even though she came from a well-to-do family. I remember her funeral was absolutely packed, such a wide range of people that I was astonished that it was actually my mother they were talking about.

Architecture is indeed a form of art, but very practical and functional. That brings constraints and, consequently, compromises. I’ve been lucky enough to avoid those aspects. Since I first discovered architecture every single moment of my working life has been exciting, not an iota of boredom. 

There’s nothing on the list that I would regret. I’ve never built a skyscraper, but  then I also think skyscrapers shouldn’t be built: I’m not sure I’d like living up in the sky. I like the idea of thinking about an airport, of designing a hospital or a station, but I think they’re projects better suited to larger-scale studies.

I try to create spaces in which I feel at ease, and I hope that others will experience the same feeling. Creating simplicity is enormously complicated and, if you get it right, the atmosphere generates a sense of calm. I hope I’ve managed to create spaces in which people feel good.